Forgotten was Trevor, who coughed and interrupted the moment. “Well, if you two are finished doing whatever it is you are doing, do you think, Chance, you could let us in on this Fallen Druid tale …?”
Chance snorted a laugh and eyed Trevor before he said, “Aye then, but I’m hungry and thirsty. Time to sit down with a pint and some food, and then we’ll talk.”
Royce sat thoughtful another moment as she watched both Trevor and Chance get to their feet. Chance turned to her and gave her his hand. “Doona ye coom with us, lass?”
She gave him her hand, and he pulled her up with just enough force to land against his body. He held her hand as he took it behind her back, pressing her against him. He bent his head to …
He is going to kiss me, she thought with a sudden tremor that spindled up her back. Right here and now and with Trev watching, because he doesn’t worry about such things. He is going to kiss me … yes, here it comes …
Instead, he whispered in her ear, “Are ye hungry, lass?”
“Um, hungry … yes …”
“Then stay close, and I’ll take ye there …”
He led them into his shift as a trickle of disappointment swept through her. He didn’t kiss me.
She felt like a schoolgirl.
She wasn’t much more than one, with little experience in the art of pleasing a man—or herself for that matter. Her time had been spent watching and forming attachments to humans. Unlike her Fae friends her own age, she had very little experience and a great deal to learn.
As they stepped out of the shift and stood before a charming pub with brightly filled flower boxes on either side of the black front door, she looked at Chance; he had still not released her hand, and she wondered if she should let him be the one to teach her.
Would he want to? He had flirted with her, he had teased, and, yes, he had kissed her, but not because he really wanted her. He had kissed her to show her she was but a female and should stay out of the fight. He had flirted for much the same reason, she believed. No, he had not really tried to romance her.
All such thoughts were put aside, however, as they entered the lively pub, took a table in a dark corner in the back of the main galley, and settled in.
Royce sighed. Fae didn’t need to eat often, but they did enjoy a good meal, and she was actually looking forward to her first Guinness of the day.
She ordered a great deal more in the way of food than either man expected, and they both regarded her in some amusement. “Ye can’t possibly fit all that food into that wee body, lass?”
“Watch me.” She laughed and then shrugged. “We burn a great deal of calories when we perform … er … magic. So I can eat two orders of chips with chocolate cake to wash it down, if I want to.”
Chance put up his hands and grinned.
Royce got up and started towards the ladies room, and Chance said softly, “I’ll miss ye till ye get back …”
Trevor rolled his eyes, and Royce snorted. “Yeah, right.”
She took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. Her red hair was tossed wildly around her face. She realized she had not toned down the variegated shades of silver and aqua of her eyes and immediately humanized them. She blinked her long, flame-colored hair into a silky mane and ran her hands over her dirty jeans—cleaning them instantly.
She took off her denim jacket; with a flick of her wrist it too was spotless and wrinkle free. She blinked away the tank top she had been wearing and replaced it with a fresh, sleeveless black cotton top that barely reached her low-waisted jeans. Royce smiled, pleased with the picture she would present Chancemont LeBlanc!
She stepped out and into a group of three men bent on having a good time. She smiled as she tried to make her way through them.
One of them, an American who’d spent most of his vacation trying out Beamish, Guinness, and various other local beers, was feeling his oats. He reached out and held her wrist to detain her. “There now, pretty lady, where are you going? Stay awhile.”
Before she could answer or handle the situation, Chance was there, stepping up to the American and saying on a low, hard note, “I woona do that if I were ye.”
“Well, you ‘woona’, but I would and am,” returned the young American, bending his head back a bit to look up the seven inches higher that Chance stood.
Royce saw from the way Chance clenched and unclenched his jaw that he was supremely irritated. She reached out to take his hand, but he didn’t notice as the young American, apparently meaning to stand his ground rather than appear a coward in front of his friends, continued his challenge. “So …?”
“So, is it?” Chance barked. “The question ye should ask yerself right now then, lad, is do ye wish to spend the rest of the week in a hospital … so … do ye?”
The American pulled a face, took half a step back, and dropped Royce’s wrist. “Well, didn’t know she was with you …” he said gruffly.
Royce was furious with Chance. He should have allowed her to handle the situation. She had been in no danger at anytime, and it was absurd of him to come off all bully-like.